


show me lights

by Suicix



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Crushes, F/F, Fluff, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4919731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suicix/pseuds/Suicix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summer is definitely Paige's favourite customer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	show me lights

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Friendly Fires song of the same name.

“There she is,” Emma murmurs into Paige’s ear, though Paige is sure she would have realised without the notification, without even looking up. To her, the whole shop seems to have lit up: sunlight should start streaming in through the windows and there should be a choir of angels ready to burst into song.

Well, maybe not. Said angels would just be put to shame by the one who’s just walked into the shop, all long legs and golden hair and a bright smile. She comes in multiple times a week and her visits manage to simultaneously be the best and worst parts of Paige’s day.

“You’re going to take her order.” Emma, again, and she moves over to sort out the pastries before Paige can do anything about it, and Paige is left to face the woman she spends far too much time daydreaming about all on her own.

She really shouldn’t have told Emma about her slight crush on the woman. OK, maybe slight isn’t the right word, maybe _absolutely hopeless_ is better, but even so, she shouldn’t have spoken a word of it. (Though she probably wouldn’t have _needed_ to tell Emma about it in the first place – Emma could coax it out of her, surely, and when Paige thinks about it like that she’s actually glad she said something about it. Coming clean about it on her own terms is far less embarrassing than Emma’s triumphant smirk when she manages to get hold of a piece of information, at least.)

Summer, her name is (Paige knows it from having to write it on the cup whenever she serves her, from trying her best to get it on there as neatly and beautifully as Summer deserves), and it definitely fits her. She seems to bring summer itself into the room whenever she visits, whenever she smiles upon being handed her order, whenever she clinks her change into the jar labelled _Tips_ on the counter. She really does leave tips often. More than any other regular leaves Paige. Emma jokes that it’s because Summer has a thing for her in return, but Paige won’t let herself believe it.

She never knows what Summer’s going to order. A lot of it is dependent on the season, and on the time of day she comes into the shop. Mornings are I-need-to-wake-up black coffees (and Paige marvels over how Summer manages to get herself looking that good before she’s even had that first dose of caffeine), but afternoons and evenings are more unpredictable. Winter usually means a hot drink, something to warm her up, and if the weather’s good she’ll go for something cold, one of the specials Emma has chalked up on the board behind the counter. (Emma is predominantly the connoisseur when it comes to chilled drinks. She says it’s because of growing up in the Australian heat.)

“Hi!” Paige says in her best chirpy I-don’t-totally-hate-working-the-early-shift voice. “What can I get you?”

Today’s order is a simple latte, but Paige is still going to try and show just how attentive and customer-oriented a barista she can be. Or, just how attentive and customer-oriented she can be when it comes to a customer like Summer, at least.

She makes the drink (at this point she can make a good latte in her sleep), ever so often glancing over at Summer. Paige wants to engage her in conversation, but she’s exhausted pretty much all of her small talk topics already with Summer recently, and she doesn’t know what they might have in common to talk about. She just settles for fleeting, wistful looks until the coffee is done.

The smile Summer sends her when Paige passes the drink over is sparkling. Paige just about dies inside. This is so, so beyond unfair.

“Thanks so much!” Summer says, and she drops her change in the tips jar.

Paige watches her leave, letting an involuntary sigh escape as she does so. She just can’t help it. Not with Summer.

“If you’re going to stare at her back forlornly as she leaves the shop you could at least ask her out sometime.” There’s Emma’s voice behind her, and Paige whirls around to face her.

“I can’t!”

“And why not?” Emma says it as if it should be easy. And it usually is for Paige – but not now, not with Summer.

“She’s probably like, what? Maybe ten years older than me, almost? Even if she wasn’t, there’s no way to tell that she’s even single, that she’s even into girls, but even if she is it’s not as if there’s gonna be any hope for her liking _me_ , and–” She stops when Emma shakes her head at her and sighs. “What?”

“Come _on_ , Paige. You know you could if you tried.”

Usually, yeah. Usually, Paige doesn’t back down from challenges or bets or anything that life throws at her. Especially when she’s into someone. In this situation, though, she doesn’t think she could take the rejection. It’s pretty much inevitable, isn’t it? And then she’ll have to face the awkwardness of serving Summer almost every day after totally embarrassing herself by putting her feelings out there. Perhaps Summer won’t even want to come back to the shop, and they’ll have lost one of their most loyal customers.

“I couldn’t. Not with _her_.”

“You don’t know that. You’ve hardly spoken to her other than brief small talk when she comes into the shop. She could be just as flustered.”

Somehow, Paige doubts that.

Her shift carries on as normal, and so do the next few weeks. Paige makes every single one of Summer’s drinks to perfection, and gets a lot of stunning smiles and some tips in return, but still keeps her mouth firmly shut. (One day, Summer comes in after she’s gone out for a run, Paige guesses, and she’s still somehow gorgeous in her workout clothes and with her hair pulled back out of her face. That time, it’s a more than a little difficult for Paige not to gape at her in wonder.)

She can feel Emma continuing to feel frustrated with her.

“I’m just glad you’ve gone the _determined to win the beautiful customer’s affection with great coffee making skills_ route instead of the _distracted by her and messes the drinks up_ one,” Emma says, her tone light. “I told you before though: just try and _talk_ to her some more. It’s painful watching you moon over her like that.”

Paige thinks it must be even more painful for her actually having the crush, but OK. If Emma says so.

 

 

The shop has a stall selling drinks at the city’s pride event at the weekend. It’s one of the only times of the year when Paige will let herself become a canvas of colour as opposed to her usual darkness. She hasn’t gone as far as Emma, doesn’t have a rainbow on her cheek to match the pink and yellow and blue one that Emma had painted on this morning, but she still thinks she looks suitable enough with her colourful bracelets and the badges on her work uniform.

It’s so much easier to smile at people today, too. She knows these customers have something in common with her, or that they’re at least trying to do something to support it. She hasn’t actually stopped smiling since arriving, and that was a couple of hours ago. She’s smiling as she hands a drink over to a customer, about to greet the next one, and – it’s Summer.

It’s Summer, and she’s got a pink, purple, and blue flag draped over her arm as she gets her wallet out of her handbag.

Somehow, this is even better than her showing up in the shop after a workout.

“Hey,” she says. “Great to see my favourite coffee shop here.”

She makes her order before Paige can reply. Paige doesn’t think she’d be able to, anyway. She’s too caught up in the fact that there’s actually the possibility of the two of them being something or at least trying to be something to think of anything to say in the first place.

There’s no time to stare after her once she’s gone because the customers just keep coming, but Emma seems to have heard their exchange.

“No excuses now, Paige,” she says, patting Paige on the shoulder.

There really aren’t.

 

 

The next time Summer comes in for a coffee, Paige is going to do something. She doesn’t know what, but _something_. She has to.

Summer herself only makes her that much more determined.

“Paige, right?” she asks after giving her order, and Paige’s eyes go wide at the fact that _Summer actually knows her name_. Thinking about it, of course she does, what with all the tips she leaves, but _still_. It’s _Summer._

“Yeah!” Paige answers, perhaps a little too enthusiastic. “Yeah, that’s me.”

She should probably take _some_ sort of chance now.

She fixes up the drink, and, making sure it’s legible, hurriedly scribbles her number onto the cup along with Summer’s name.

The drink is handed over. Summer thanks her.

Just as usual, she watches as Summer makes her way out of the shop, but this time waiting for Summer to find the number, looking for a reaction. She doesn’t actually seem to notice it, but she’ll have to soon, won’t she? Paige only hopes she’ll act on it when she does.

(A couple of hours later, when Paige’s phone buzzes and she takes a glance down at it to see a text from an unknown number that reads _hi Paige, this is Summer. from the coffee shop. thanks for the number!_ , she almost spills the drink she’s serving. That customer doesn’t tip her anything, but Paige decides it’s worth it.)


End file.
